


Yeah, and Turnbull's an alien

by lamentables



Category: due South
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-11
Updated: 2008-04-11
Packaged: 2017-10-21 02:43:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamentables/pseuds/lamentables
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Local inhabitants all insane; fear cause may be environmental.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yeah, and Turnbull's an alien

"Turnbull, Detective Vecchio requires my assistance with the Belgian Malinois abduction case. I anticipate being occupied with this for the rest of the day and should be grateful if you would collect Inspector Thatcher's dry-cleaning for me."

"Yes, of course, Sir."

Turnbull waited for the Consulate door to close behind Fraser, then breathed out a massive sigh. "Thank fuck for that."

He peeled off the human hands, as he headed down the corridor to Fraser's office and dropped the gloves on the desk, flexing his blue tentacles with pleasure. Then he locked the door of the office and stepped into the closet.

As usual, reaching for the unlocking mechanism on the top of his head and pulling off the mask caused the old guy to appear, like an apparition.

"They've obviously not found you out yet. Must be the advice I've been giving. Did a lot of work on camouflage you know, in my younger days. Of course, when you're tracking something across the Arctic, it's mostly about shades of white. More of a challenge for you, I imagine."

Turnbull ignored him, concentrating instead on his communication panel.

"Did you try the thing with the cheese?"

Turnbull waved a warning tentacle at the old guy, who was drifting a little too close to the equipment, then began to stroke out a message across the touch-sensitive interface.

"You're doing well with the devotion to Her Majesty, by the way, but I think you need to rein in the cleaning. Cleaning is good, and I can see it's part of the characterisation, but you're definitely overdoing it. It could arouse suspicion."

Turnbull reviewed his message.

 _No useful information gathered since last report. Reiterate, planet very crowded: clearance team would be required prior to colonisation. Recommend reclassification as "emergency use only"._

 _Please advise earliest date for return to base. Local inhabitants all insane; fear cause may be environmental. Or communicable disease._

He pressed 'send', shut down the equipment and stowed it securely. Then, snagging his mask, he pushed past the old man and out of the closet.

He'd just settled back at the front desk when Inspector Thatcher returned with the Belgian ambassador. "Ah, good afternoon, Sir. Ambassador. I trust you both enjoyed your lunch. Should I make you some coffee?" He tucked his hands behind his back hoping that neither of them had spotted the small sucker poking through his imperfectly sealed left glove.


End file.
